


Istanbul, 1972

by die_traumerei



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dildos, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fingerfucking, Historical, Kissing, Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Oral Sex, Other, Porn with Feelings, Tenderness, Vaginal Fingering, allosexual relationship, transmasc crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale meet up for a little holiday in Istanbul, but first they have to make up for lost time. Explicit porn with feelings, featuring a female-presenting Aziraphale and male-presenting, transmasc Crowley.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 132





	Istanbul, 1972

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I was NOT expecting to write porn for this fandom either, but here we are! This just popped into my head one day, and it's been wonderful to write their allosexual dynamic. To the surprise of exactly no one, Aziraphale is *insatiable*.

Crowley walked down the cobbled streets, enjoying the sun beating down. It wasn't even summer yet, but here where Europe met Asia and not much had changed since the world was new, the heat was heavy on him.

He followed the directions he'd been given; walk down Istiklal Caddesi. Turn onto a side street, past the old men drinking cups of tea sat low on the cobbles, go past the sandal shop. Turn again, the street narrower now, the buildings older and built of wood, closed up against the heat of the day. Come to the end of the road, and smell the green before you see it.

Crowley touched the lock on the ornate iron gate, and let himself into the courtyard, where it was instantly cooler and the air smelled like flowers. There was a small fountain that humidified the garden, and Crowley smiled to himself; trust his angel to find lodging in this tiny, tucked-away palace. The fountain even covered the the sounds from the street, and the gate was designed such that cats could slip through, and indeed a few were sunning themselves in the fragrant garden.

Crowley scritched the head of one who came asking for attention, but he couldn't linger. “I'm sorry,” he told the little creature. “Got to see an angel. We'll come out here when the sun is lower, all right?”

“Miaow,” the cat said, and Crowley crossed the courtyard and let himself in through the blue door, as he'd been instructed.

Aziraphale lay on a messy bed, legs spread, fucking herself with a dildo with one hand and playing with her clit with the other. She was wearing a matching bra and knickers, made of such transparent fabric as to leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. Not that they would have covered much anyway; her panties were loose and ruffly and hardly covered her round bottom, and of course the crotch was pushed well out of the way. And her bra, likewise ruffled and sweet and soft, was more like a cropped shirt, just covering her breasts, the wide fabric straps coming around her arms rather than over her shoulders.

She moaned and thrust with the dildo, arching her back beautifully.

“Oh _fuck_ , angel,” Crowley breathed.

“ _There_ you are.” Aziraphale looked at him from under her lashes. “I got bored waiting.”

“Is that supposed to discourage me from being late?” Crowley snapped his fingers, his clothes taken care of in seconds. Clothes were awful. Terrible things. Even the two wisps of fabric Aziraphale was wearing so beautifully would have to go sooner rather than later.

In reply, Aziraphale threw her head back and brought herself to orgasm, moaning and beautiful, her belly and breasts jiggling as she shook and wailed and came to rest on the bed.

“Oh, yes,” Crowley breathed, going to kneel beside her.

Aziraphale gave him a sleepy smile and pulled the dildo out, and Crowley could see it was exquisitely carved rose quartz. And that it was soaking wet from his beloved's body.

“Here,” Aziraphale purred. “I warmed it up for you.” She held it out and Crowley took it, wide-eyed, while Aziraphale smiled and pressed her hand between his legs, warm against his vulva. “Hello, darling. I've missed you so.”

“Hnnnghhhhh,” Crowley said, and ground down on her hand. “Angel, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“That _is_ the idea,” Aziraphale agreed. “Lie down now, before it gets cold.”

Crowley didn't have to be asked twice, although it was more of a 'collapse onto the bed' than 'lie down in any kind of remotely sexy way'. Which didn't seem to bother Aziraphale any, at least. She just plucked her knickers back into place, knelt over Crowley, and took the dildo back.

Crowley moaned into the kiss Aziraphale gave him, and moaned again when he felt the dildo tease the soft folds of his vulva. It was  _warm_ , warm and slick and wet and that was  _Aziraphale_ , that was Aziraphale's heat and her beautiful body, and her heavy breasts that almost but not quite touched his chest as she began to slip the dildo into him.

“Oh, you take it so beautifully,” she approved, and Crowley moaned and arched his back, begging for more, wanting so much to please his angel.

“Shhh, gentle. I don't want to hurt you,” Aziraphale cautioned. “This is harder than a cock.”

“Good,” Crowley groaned. “Fuck, fuck, Aziraphale. I can feel you. It's so warm. You're so warm.”

“I'd better be, it's absolutely blazing out there,” she teased, pressing the dildo in another inch. “And I missed you. I've been here since yesterday, and I had thought I might save myself for you.”

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Crowley swore, as Aziraphale ducked a little lower, so her breasts could just brush against his flat chest, and her arse push up into the air more. Her hair was long, white-blonde curls, and it brushed against his shoulder.

“I was very good,”Aziraphale said, starting to thrust, shallowly, with the dildo. “I got here and went out and bought wine and baklava and coffee for us. I walked by the seaside, but the smell of the salt in the air made me think of you. Made me think of the taste of you.”

“Do you _want_ to discorporate me?” Crowley wailed.

“I was getting wet just walking across the bridge,” Aziraphale continued mercilessly, literally the meanest angel to ever walk the earth, Crowley was certain of it. “My pants were _ruined_ , just thinking of how it felt to taste you, to put my face in your cunny, and how you smell like the sea.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” was Crowley's contribution, as Aziraphale filled him up with the dildo. It _was_ harder than her cock, when she chose to have one. 

“I had to come home, my cunt soaking wet. I hardly made it inside the gate before I laid down on the bench – did you see it? You can almost see it from the street – and got myself off, thinking of you,” she purred, and Crowley felt the base of the dildo slide home. 

“Fuck me,” Crowley begged. “You're so...please. _Please_.”

“In a moment. _You_ made me wait,” Aziraphale accused. She ran a fingertip over Crowley's clit and made him scream, muffled by her mouth, kissing him again, such a luscious little thing.

“You look so handsome like this,” she said warmly, thumbs brushing over one of his nipples, then leaning over to kiss him again. “Where was I? Oh yes. Getting myself off in the garden. I thought that might keep me, and it did, for a few hours.” She left the dildo filling him up and moved to sit up on his belly. Aziraphale thoughtfully cupped her breasts through the transparent fabric calling itself a brassiere. “Then I bathed, to cool down. I'm afraid I made rather a mess.” She looked adorably guilty. “I was just washing myself, but I remembered how much you like to lick my breasts, how carefully you kiss them, and I just missed you so much. It's not quite the same,” she said, rubbing her nipples through the fabric, while Crowley wondered if he could come from her words alone. “But I could touch myself the way you like to touch me, and that helped. A little.”

Crowley yowled, and pulled her down, one hand on her arse and the other one her waist, pulling her so he could get his mouth on those perfect tits, so he could suckle her nipples through the fabric like it was nothing. Her breasts were big and soft and round, perfect under his mouth as he kissed a wet trail across her skin, rolling his hips up already when she cried out, soft and sweet, at his touch.

“So I...I... _oh_! I got mys-s-self off in the bath,” she moaned. “And then I was. I read. And slept. And got b-b-bored waiting for you. But you're here now.”

“Yes,” Crowley said. “I _am_.” He pulled her top down and buried his face in her breasts, kissing and kneading her ass, pressing her so, so close, his gorgeous vixen of an angel.

Aziraphale reached between them, wriggling so she could lay on her side and Crowley could kiss her breasts while she grasped the dildo's base again and began to fuck him properly, steady thrusts while he suckled her nipple and caressed her hip and touched her through her knickers, soaking wet and warm under his hand.

“I think it's time for you to come,” Aziraphale whispered, when he'd gone beyond moaning, and was just rolling his hips, begging with sounds. She slid down his body and kissed across his hip, dildo still keeping its rhythm as she sealed her mouth over his clit and flicked it with her tongue.

Crowley screamed, shaken down to his soul, too much, it had been hardly half an hour and it was already so much, he was coming, his body too tender and sensitive, and he shook and moaned and shattered.

When he could blink and swallow and do human things again, it was all...so much more bearable. He was laid out on the bed, pillow under his head, snuggled in the soft mattress. Aziraphale sat right there, still in her essentially non-existent underwear, but with her hair braided loosely, hanging over one shoulder. She was holding Crowley's hand, and smiling down at him.

“Hello, dearest. Feeling better?”

“Fuck me, that was quite a greeting.” Crowley smiled up at her, still not entirely certain he could sit up. “And yes. Hello you, by the way. I love you.”

“I love you too, Crowley. Kiss all right?”

Crowley laughed and actually did sit up, pulling his delicious squish of an angel into his arms. How did Aziraphale manage to be so  _soft_ ? “I'm fine. Not so overstimulated.” He looked down at his lap and smiled. “Maybe give my poor cunt some time to recover. Blimey, angel.”

Aziraphale grinned proudly, and kissed him again. “I really outdid myself, didn't I? Do you like this set?” She touched the edge of her knickers. “I think they're quite pretty myself.”

“They're very pretty,” Crowley assured her. “Not quite as pretty as you, mind, but close.” He kissed her cheek. “Did you really keep getting yourself off?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale laughed. “Everything I said was true! I meant to go out and enjoy myself, honest I did, and I _did_ , for a bit.” She blushed. “Then I just got the taste of the sea in my mouth and thought of you and goodbye dignity. I was _soaked_ , Crowley.”

“We've gone too long without seeing one another,” Crowley decided. “When was the last time we had more than a kiss, really?”

Aziraphale shook her head. “More than a year ago. And I had a cock then – you haven't licked my clit since May of 1958.”

“Well _that_ is a sin,” Crowley declared. “Demon-certified. I'm disgusted with myself.”

Aziraphale giggled, and cuddled in his arms. “We'll take care of it in a bit. Do you want some water, love? Or something else to drink? I can make us tea.”

“Tea would be just the thing,” Crowley said. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale rose and went over to a samovar, pouring them each little glasses. “Snack?”

“That's what your cunt is for,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale yelped and laughed and threw him a glare over her shoulder. “I mean it. The only thing I want in my mouth is your beautiful clit.”

“Oh, you.” Aziraphale added a sugar cube each to the strong tea, the citrus smell filling the room, mingling with the smell of sex. “Oh, how did the miracle in Damascus go?”

“Without a hitch,” Crowley assured her, taking the small glass and sipping it appreciatively. “You've been keeping well, I assume?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said. “London's quite the place – so much is being rebuilt every day, love, I can't wait for you to see it. It's changed even since...since you were last there” She kissed his cheek. “I love you, Crowley. I really did miss you.”

“Hey, angel. I really missed you too.” He touched her chin, and kissed her lips. They hadn't had the best of times, the last time they were in London together. He still had the tartan thermos, and the memory of them meeting, and parting, without even touching. “I love you, Aziraphale.” He kissed her cheek affectionately. “I know we're going to fuck each others' brains out, but we should have a proper holiday here too.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Aziraphale assured him. “I just need a few good orgasms, and I'll be all right in public with you.” She smiled, and touched his flat chest, his waist, and his slim hips. “You are _delicious_ , you know.”

Crowley just smiled, and kissed the soft skin of her neck. He'd finished his tea, and very refreshing it was. Also, now he could turn his attention to the most important things, namely giving Aziraphale so many orgasms she couldn't either think  _or_ overthink.

She finished her tea while Crowley made his way down her body, kissing her familiar skin. “May I?” he asked, touching the bottom edge of her top.

“Oh, probably for the best,” she said, and stretched her arms up so Crowley could pull it off, and bury his face in her breasts. He kissed the soft skin, and slipped his mouth around a nipple, suckling softly while urging Aziraphale to lay back, to get comfortable. The dildo was set aside for now; he liked to use his fingers and his mouth on her.

He slipped his hand into her knickers, massaging her mons pubis and smiling at the shock of wiry hair as he kissed his way across her belly, not wanting her other breast to go wanting. Aziraphale, good girl that she was, had already opened her legs and was moaning, so it was nothing to curve his hand around and cup her vulva, just pressing for a moment before he slipped a fingertip between her soft lips.

“Oh, fuck,” he swore – of course she was already wet, slick and hot under his hand, and she gasped at his touch. Crowley kissed her breast, and her belly, loving the softness there. Aziraphale's body was back out of fashion, so he was careful to love her extra, make sure she knew how beautiful she was, always, always, in any era or gender or fashion.

“Love?” he asked, touching the top edge of her panties, already half-off. They weren't made for someone with a bottom like Aziraphale's, and the translucent fabric was already practically invisible, wet from her cunt.

She nodded and lifted her hips so he could pull her panties off, and then she was there, perfect and naked on the bed, nothing on her but her ring and a smile.

Crowley grinned, knelt between her legs, kissed her belly one last time, and did what he did best. With  _style_ .

He lay between her legs, one finger teasing her vulva and started by licking everywhere  _but_ her pretty little clit, already swollen and just begging for attention. Aziraphale did not like to be teased, and Crowley grinned at the curses rained down upon him, the way her legs moved, heels digging into the bed and thighs trembling. She had the prettiest stretch marks in the world, gleaming silver-skin and gold-angelic-stuff, and there were dimples  _everywhere._ Crowley hadn't known a being could be so dimpled and chubby and precious and sexy and everything Aziraphale was.

Only a little afraid of getting a kick to the head, he finally touched the tip of his tongue to Aziraphale's clit, and wasn't disappointed. Aziraphale was very....vocal.

He worked her over with his tongue, coming up with a plan. Orgasms until she cried – they both liked that. At least one with just his mouth. A few where he penetrated her with his fingers, and then perhaps the return of the crystal dildo, since she did so enjoy being fucked. Tender and gentle, and then one where he flipped her over and fucked her from behind until she screamed. Maybe, if his poor clit had recovered, they could try to get each other off, race for who could orgasm first. But to start, sweet and easy, his fingertips tracing the folds of her labia, and his tongue clever and hot and wet, working her clit over until she came.

The day wore on, and Crowley accomplished everything he'd hoped to. Aziraphale was voracious, demanding, bratty and beautiful in every position. On her back, legs spread, getting eaten out. Up against a wall while Crowley fucked her with the dildo, one arm hard around her waist. The two of them chasing each other around the bed until she caught him and licked and massaged his clit until she wrung an orgasm out of him, and he could flip them both over, get her thighs around his head, and return the favour.

She was hungry for him, and he for her, and they played and kissed and her tits bounced as she came and he pushed her again and again until now, when she lay in his lap, weak and sobbing, his hand on her swollen pussy.

“One more, angel. Just one more, that's all I want from you,” he crooned. “My beautiful angel, my Aziraphale. You're so good at this. You were made for love and pleasure, and I love you so, so much. Just give me one more, all right?”

“I can't,” she sobbed. “Crowley, I can't, I can't, it's too much.” She was crying, but she also wasn't giving her safeword. 

“Of course you can,” he soothed, murmuring into her ear. “Here, I'll help you.” He cupped one of her breasts in one hand, touching the oversensitive nipple, and she wailed and twitched her hips, right into his hand. He rubbed her with the palm, soothing and warm and dispersed, then moved to massage just her clit, touch almost too light. “Come for me, angel. Just let me see one more orgasm, all right? Then you can rest.”

She moaned and pressed into his hand, and he rubbed faster, knowing just how she liked it, until he felt her shake in his arms again, crying hard as she orgasmed, her poor tired body against his.

Aziraphale just cried, then, and he let her, cuddling her close, hands well away from her erogenous zones. His own vulva ached in sympathy, so he just stroked her back and told her he loved her, over and over again. How beautiful she was and how proud she'd made him. He kissed away every tear, and gave her a little water to drink, and held her and praised her and let her cry out all the sorrows that she never could any other way.

It took a long time, but Aziraphale was quiet again, limp and tender in his arms, and Crowley wondered, again, how on earth he'd been trusted with this absolute treasure. Aziraphale should be...should be...something else. Angelic royalty. Living in Heaven somewhere, with angels to do her every bidding, to keep her in an eternal state of bliss.

No, he decided. That wasn't the Aziraphale he loved. Sure, she really, really,  _really_ liked sex. So did he. But they also liked to dine together, and cuddle and talk, and do all the lovely things of the world together. So perhaps that was how he wound up with this pearl in his arms – he knew exactly how to make her happy.

“Mmm.” She sighed, and nuzzled his neck. “Thank you hardly covers it.”

“I can assure you, it was my pleasure. Think we set a new record, angel.”

Aziraphale giggled, and shifted, and groaned. “Oh dear.”

Crowley peeked down at her vulva, swollen and sore-looking. “Oh, poor darling.” He laid her back on a pile of pillows, and used some extras to prop up her knees, just wide enough so he could snap his fingers and produce an ice pack. He frowned thoughtfully, wrapped it in a few layers of the mussed sheets, and laid it gently between her legs.

“ _Oh_ ,” Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, that feels wonderful. Thank you, Crowley.”

Crowley kissed her cheek. “Of course. Let me get you some water, angel. You worked very, very hard.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “I really didn't think I could come one last time...”

“But you did,” Crowley reminded her. “You came for me, you brilliant thing.” Another kiss. “You're so good at loving, and letting me love you.” He got up and headed for the pitcher of ice water that had handily appeared next to the samovar, and came back with a cup of cold water for his hot little angel.

Hah. He'd have to remember that one.

She drank thirstily, and then made him get a glass for himself. Both of them well-watered and feeling dreamy and soft, Crowley came back to bed and snuggled up to Aziraphale, holding the ice pack in place.

“I love you,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “My demon boy. I don't think I'm quite up to going out tonight, but let's have dinner out soon? I want to show off how handsome you are.”

Crowley preened a little. “When you're all rested and happy,” he promised, and stroked her cheek. “I've got to show you off too.”

Aziraphale smiled at him and lay heavy on his body. “I'm so happy.”

“Good girl,” Crowley praised, and kissed the tip of her nose.

Aziraphale giggled, squinching her nose up, the crows-feet around her eyes thrown into sharp, beautiful relief. She even gave a tired wiggle, and Crowley held her a little more carefully, his sweet, tired darling.

In lieu of supper, Crowley fed her baklava and they shared a bottle of sweet wine, and she licked honey from his fingers in between kisses. Aziraphale admired his fashionable haircut, and he combed her hair out carefully, thick platinum curls turned to waves under their own weight.

“How's things on your side?” he asked idly, carefully undoing a particularly noxious tangle. It was probably his fault anyway, although who could _truly_ blame a poor, defenseless demon when his angel was so lovely on her back, legs spread wide and begging for a good fuck?

Aziraphale sighed. “Quiet. Gabriel showed up a few months back with a performance report, but he's mostly been happy since the war. Apparently we got quite a number of souls for our side. No atheists in trenches and all.” She covered her face with her hands. “Quite a lot of souls.”

“Oh, love.” Aziraphale had helped some of the souls out of the world, held their hands and smoothed their way in the rubble of the Blitz. Crowley wrapped his arms around her shoulders and nuzzled her cheek. “I love you. You did so much good, darling. No matter what that wanker says, you were so good.”

“I was acceptable, apparently,” Aziraphale told him, trying to look brave and nonchalant. “Just.”

“ _Wanker_.”

Aziraphale smiled a little, and a little more when Crowley pressed kisses to her cheek, and her temple, and her soft chin. “Now, now. You know very well Gabriel would never soil his corporation with an orgasm.”

“Explains a lot,” Crowley said, and gave her another kiss. “I think you're delicious and greedy and beautiful. I think you're probably unhealthily attached to that bookshop and you drink too much, and you're funny and kinder than anyone deserves. And I wouldn't change you for all the souls in the world.”

“Thank you, I think,” Aziraphale said, but she was smiling again, a real smile, so that was all right. “What about your lot?”

“Quiet as well. Think they're adjusting to things. You know them, only interested in turning a priest once a generation,” Crowley complained. He'd untangled the knot and was combing Aziraphale's hair smooth and shining. The ice pack had done its job and she sat up, crosslegged and sweet between his legs, her round rump pressed against his thighs. He was wet, because that's what he _did_ when he was around Aziraphale, nothing to be done about it, but it was time to talk and be sweet and soft, and maybe get orgasms later, and perhaps require a little ice himself. “No vision,” he declared, and parted Aziraphale's hair to braid into thick plaits.

Aziraphale made commiserating noises, in between happy sighs as he got her hair off her neck and made it neat for sleeping.

“There you go,” he murmured, kissing the soft, sweet place at the nape of her neck.

“I adore you.” Aziraphale moved to snuggle more firmly in his arms, her lush body pressed up against his, all softness meeting his angles.

“That's not my fault,” Crowley said, and kissed her brow. “How's your down there?” He rested a hand very gently between her legs; still a little tender, going by her gasp, but not warm and swollen as it had been earlier.

“Good,” she murmured, pressing into his hand, rocking her hips a little.

“You are _insatiable_ ,” he said happily, reaching for a kiss, long and wet.

“I want it like this,” she said, rubbing against his palm. “And then I want to make you come, darling, you've been very good to me.”

“Whatever you like, angel,” Crowley promised her. He curled his hand a little, giving her something to rub against, letting her pick how hard she wanted to be touched. Precious thing – they would play tourist tomorrow just because she would finally be too sore to fuck, if nothing else.

“I _like_ making you yell my name,” Aziraphale said. “Play with my breasts, please.”

Crowley smiled into her throat. His pillow princess got what she wanted, and gladly. He moved his free hand to cup one of her breasts, the softness filling his hand. He rubbed his thumb over her nipple and pressed openmouthed kisses to her neck, groaning when he felt his palm go warm and wet with her.   
“Beautiful,” he whispered, as her body undulated against him, her back to his chest, her body between his thighs. He paid equal attention to her other breast, stretching his arm across her body, squeezing and massaging, kissing. Crowley managed to lift one perfect nipple up and, with a split snake tongue, taste it.

“Oh!” Aziraphale moaned at the unexpected touch, and her hips bucked under his hand. “Rub...yes...oh...”

She moaned again, the sweetest sound in the world, her head thrown back against his shoulder as he teased her nipples, such pretty pert little things, and rubbed her vulva. Touching her clit would be too much right now – neither of them liked pain particularly – but she was sensitive enough that just rubbing and being held and teased and kissed soon sent her into a gentle orgasm, ending with her soft and pliant in his arms.

Crowley held her tenderly, flattened by a rush of love. Aziraphale _trusted_ him, with her soft and precious body, with her heart, with her everything. He stroked her hair – not loosed from the braids he'd put it, in it wouldn't _dare_ – and rested a hand on the soft little bulge just under her breast that naturally appeared when she sat. It fit his slender hand like it had been made for him, his thumb nuzzled into the fold beneath her breast, and the side of his hand tucked in a matching fold that became her belly, round and perfect.

“I love you,” he told her softly, and she smiled, and turned her head and gave him a tired nuzzle, her body utterly spent.

“How about we get you to bed?” he murmured, and she smiled.

“I owe you an orgasm tomorrow,” she mumbled, body utterly slack against his, and Crowley was so proud he thought he'd burst. He'd loved Aziraphale so thoroughly and so well that she was _sleepy_ , his angel who hardly slept at all. She was smiling and soft and beautiful, and he was allowed to take care of her and tease her and be teased in return, and fight with her and make love together.

Aziraphale didn't like sleeping naked, so Crowley snapped his fingers and dressed her in a light, diaphanous linen gown, sleeveless against the heat that was already pervasive, even in late spring. It was a pale silver colour, like her hair, and soft against her skin. He rolled her onto the bed, a pillow under her cheek, and drew a light sheet over her body, tucking her in with a kiss.

“ _Crowley_ ,” she moaned. “Come to bed with me.”

“In a moment, sweet,” he promised. “Let me just get changed. Hush now, I'm right here.”

“Too far away,” she mumbled, and even managed a tiny pout. Crowley smiled, and kissed just under one of her eyes.

“I know, angel,” he murmured. “Just a few more moments.” He poured a glass of ice water, gave it a look that ensured it would _stay_ icy cold if it knew what was good for it, and set it by her side of the bed, in case she woke in the night and was thirsty. Another snap of his fingers and he was in his pyjamas. Crowley looked around the room once more. He opened the shutters of the windows just enough to let in the perfumed air from the garden, but not so much that the hot sun would bother them in the morning. Finally satisfied that things were arranged just so, he slipped into bed behind Aziraphale, cuddling up to her back, her protective big spoon.

“ _Love_ ,” Aziraphale sighed, and relaxed fully in his arms, clearly waiting for this moment to drift off to sleep.

“There now,” Crowley murmured. “My good girl.” He hugged her for a moment, and soon fell asleep himself.

He woke up with their positions reversed; Aziraphale was big spoon, and had her hand down his trousers, fingers sliding between his labia and pressing kisses to his shoulders. Crowley awoke mid-moan and arched his back into her, feeling her laughter more than hearing it.

“Good morning, darling,” Aziraphale said. “I love your body so much.” She rubbed his clit with one soft fingertip, then went back to teasing, slipping through his folds, dipping a fingertip not nearly far enough into him.

“Gnaarh,” Crowley said, startled by the gush of wet between his legs.

“I wondered if it was worth switching to a cock, so I could fuck you,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley moaned, and not just because she had wriggled one arm around his body and was playing with one of his nipples.

“But I think I like this better,” she confided, and bit his neck lightly as she dipped two fingers into him, thrusting shallowly. The _tease_. If he could remember his own name, he'd beg for more.

“I love you so much,” Aziraphale confided, and he shuddered again while she continued to not-quite-fingerfuck him. “My handsome demon boy. I'm going to flip you on your back and eat you out, all right?”

Crowley attempted to convey with tone and length of noise coming out of him that this was _extremely_ okay. She laughed, the evil creature, and drew away from him and rolled him onto his back. She was still wearing her nightgown, but he could see the dark of her nipples through the thin fabric, far more of a tease than a fully naked, horny, sexy angel alone was.

She snapped her fingers and he was naked and vulnerable under her hungry gaze. His heels scrabbled on the bed as he tried to part his legs, and Aziraphale giggled at what she'd reduced him to, _him_ , the Serpent of Eden!

“Oh, you're so handsome,” she sighed, and dove between his legs, mouth over his clit and two fingers easing into him, curling, and setting up a rhythm.

Crowley moaned, legs contracting, toes curling as her heavenly mouth went to work, suckling softly and licking, her tongue exploring every fold of him. She moaned into his clit, her fingers pumping and oh _Satan,_ her other hand was on one thigh, caressing him, easing him. Crowley took orgasms...not harder, exactly, but he was more undone by them than Aziraphale was. She had had to learn to be very gentle with him.

Well, perhaps not gentle. But tender, certainly. And she was very, very tender, gazing up at him as she lapped at his clit, then kissing his flat belly when he shook, and wet gushed from him, soaking Aziraphale's hand.

“You give me such treats,” she gloated while he panted for breath and watched her lick her fingers clean, savouring the taste of him. “Crowley, I love you so, so much. My gorgeous darling.” She leaned over, holding herself up on her plump arms, and kissed him so he could taste himself. “Please, love, would it hurt to give you another orgasm? I just – I _so_ want to eat you out,” she confessed, wide-eyed and sweet-faced.

“C'n take 'nother,” Crowley managed. “Anything for you.”

“Oh, love.” Her face contorted a moment, and she lay down and gathered him close, the hug strong and grounding and so _real_. “You'd give me too much. My darling, my generous darling.” She stroked his hair, and it helped so much, to ground him and light him on fire. “One more,” she murmured. “And then we'll cuddle and when we can both go out without causing an incident, you can take me to breakfast.”

Crowley laughed, low in his body, and hugged her. “Wear your prettiest dress,” he said.

“Don't I always?” She smiled and kissed his cheek. “My love, my Crowley. You're so _delicious_ , sweetheart.” She sighed with pleasure, eyelashes fluttering for a moment, her belly pressed against his side, the fold of her hip the best curve the universe ever produced. Aziraphale smiled, and kissed him, and told him how handsome he was again.

She sat up and crawled to kneel between his legs, rubbing his thighs a little. “Oh,” she sighed. “I'll have to tie you down like this soon. But, well, things to do and all.” And she ducked down, his thighs on her shoulders as she buried her face between his legs, moaning loudly as her face pushed into the softest part of his body.

“So _good_ ,” she groaned, and lapped at him, her little upturned nose bumping the root of his clit, and he gasped and arched his back. She went with him, of course, licking hungrily now, lapping at his opening, her tongue teasing into him, moaning at the taste of him. Her mouth roamed those few inches where all of his nerves suddenly seemed to live, and he clutched at the sheets, making incoherent noises, not even able to moan, really.

Besides, Aziraphale was making enough noise for the both of them, the vibrations of her lips driving him even further on. She'd figured out how to tilt her head to really fuck into him with her tongue, making soft and hungry noises. They had somehow wound up with Crowley's legs hung over her shoulders, his heels pressed against her back, the arching of his back forcing her to curl upright. There were so many yummy folds and curves in her belly, he was was _sure_ of it, though of course he couldn't see. Mostly because his eyes were tightly closed, while he scrabbled to last long enough to actually enjoy this, the heat and pressure building between his legs, her perfect tongue lapping and going at him, now fucking him, now shifting so she could lick his clit, flick it with the tip of her tongue, and go back to burying her face in his folds with vocal appreciation for his taste, the feel of him, how wet he was and how much she loved him.

He tried, he really did, but it was _Aziraphale_ , how was any being supposed to hold off on orgasm around her? His wicked, precious angel, she didn't give up as he moaned and shook, but kept at it, tongue flicking and one orgasm melted into another, into her groaning as she ravaged him, into another until finally Crowley screamed, because he was going to discorporate if she didn't stop, his body shaking, pleasure shooting through him and –

He must have passed out, because the next he knew, he was dry and cool and safe and snug in her arms, his head on one perfect breast, and she was steady and still. Crowley sighed and opened his eyes and smiled up at her.

“Hello, you.” She smiled at him. “How do you feel?”

“Perfect,” he breathed, and closed his eyes for a moment. He was completely relaxed, completely unguarded, just for a little bit.

“Good. Because you are. Perfect, I mean.” She traced the lines of his tattoo. “My very brave darling. You turned into a snake for a moment there.”

He opened his eyes wide. “I did?”

“Mmmhmm. Surprise of my life, I tell you.” She giggled at the look on his face. “Poor little snake.”

“Oh, good, not the serpent of Eden,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale laughed again.

“No, quite small. I could scoop you up in my hands, love, and cuddle you right between my breasts.”

“We are doing that again sometime when I'm not passed out,” Crowley complained.

“Of course,” Aziraphale agreed, now tracing the lines of the shell of his ear. “You changed back as soon as I laid you on a pillow, anyway. And then I just held you until you woke up.”

“Thank you,” Crowley sighed, and gave her a little squeeze. “Sorry if I worried you.”

“No, love. I could feel how happy you were.” Quiet, for a moment. “How much you love me.”

Crowley gave her an extra-hard squeeze. “I love you _so much_.”

Aziraphale smiled and kissed his brow. “I know. I love you too. Do you need to lie quietly? Do you need ice, or heat?” she asked, worry creeping into her voice. “Was I too rough, love?”

“Shhhhhh,” Crowley murmured. “Yes. Wanna lie here. Wi' you. Nothing hurts. Not too rough. Perfect.”

“Oh, good.” His fussy little angel stroked his hair and let him come back to himself in quiet, muffled street sounds and birdsong giving them a gentle backdrop.

Crowley didn't sleep so much as rest in a deep and healing way, until he took a deep breath and felt reborn. “I owe you breakfast,” he said, pushing himself up and leaning over to kiss Aziraphale sweetly.

“Yes, you do,” she said happily, and went to dress herself in pretty light cottons. As usual she existed out of time, her clothes of the fashion that was so old it was coming back in again, and as usual she looked lovely. Aziraphale loosed her hair from the braids, now mussed with sleep, and coiled it all up in a bun, sensibly keeping her neck cool.

Crowley, untouched by the equatorial heat, was sleek and perfectly in fashion, head to toe black of course.

“Honestly,” Aziraphale huffed. “You're going to die of heatstroke.”

“Always did all right before,” Crowley said cheerfully, pleased that he could irritate her just by existing and being himself. “C'mon, milady. The city awaits us.”

Aziraphale paused in the doorway, Crowley already standing in the garden. The sunlight hit her and made her glow, and she smiled suddenly, breathing in the flowers and the city and the sun. “Oh, it's so wonderful that it's stayed this long, isn't it?” she said. “That there's been a city here, the same city, for almost as long as _we've_ been here.”

“It's wonderful,” Crowley agreed gently, and held out a hand. He had intended to offer her his arm – he had _manners_ after all – but this fresh morning, and the lovely ache between his legs and the taste of Aziraphale's skin in his mouth, all meant that today was a day for gentle, intimate things.

So the angel and the demon held hands as they stepped together into the ancient streets, and went to find a cafe.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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